Get Roger Off Crack
by VivaLaConfusion
Summary: [[Maddie writes RENT 'crackfictions' during math class...which may be the reason as to why she's failing.]] Basically just a short story of Mark, Roger and Collins being crackheads...
1. A Yeti ate my SOUL

One day, not very long ago, Collins brought home a drag queen for Christmas, and, while drag queens are the BEST FUCKING PRESENTS EVER, Mark and Roger are ungrateful little bitches, especially Roger, who enjoys sending confusing postcards to his mother in his spare time.

"A drag queen?" Roger groans, smacking his forehead with extreme force. "Ouch, fuck, seriously though, a drag queen? I mean, most people will bring home a stray kitten, or a yeti, or sasquatch or SOMETHING normal, but no, leave it to Collins to bring home a fucking drag queen."

Mark, who has a yeti fetish, stares wide eyed at Roger. "Did you just say yeti? I fucking LOVE those guys!!"

"Um…" Roger starts, but is interrupted by Mark "Well, I liked the drag queen personally, I thought she was pretty and nice, plus she has a heart of gold like Julia Roberts in the American classic 'Pretty Woman', which is pretty much my second favorite movie in the entire world, second only to 'The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill But Came Down a Mountain, which I found to be very inspiring." -

Roger blinks stupidly. "Hey, did you hear about the man who drank too much water and drown from the inside out?"

Mark opens his mouth to reply that yes, he had heard of the man, who actually happened to be his third cousin twice removed. Before he has a chance to say anything though, Collins burst through the door, breaking it off the hinges. 'Um…guys, I think your door is broken!"

"No shit!" Roger mutters under his breath, once again smacking his forehead with extreme force. "Fuck! I really need to stop killing my few remaining brain cells!"

"I second that notion." Collins agrees, smacking his forehead as well. "Ouch!"

Mark meanwhile, is staring wide eyed at his friends. "M'kay guys, no more angel dust for you guys!"

"Angel!" Collins squeals, jumping up and down. "Oh my God, don't you guys just love her?"

"Not really." Roger replies honestly. "Seriously Collins, why couldn't you have brought home something normal like a…"

"Yeti!?" Mark interrupts, now jumping up and down as well.

Collins turns around and glares at Roger. "I brought her home because I love her and I thought you would too."

"I like her!" Mark says, raising his hand in the air and waving it around. "She reminds me of Julia Roberts."

"She would remind you of Julia Roberts" Roger mutters, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Seriousfuckingly, why am I friends with you guys, you're both fucking insane!"

"Um, speak for yourself!" Collins says, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a musket with one of those pointy things on the end like the British royal guards use. He points it at Roger. "Haha! This is a stickup! Die bitch!"

Roger crosses his eyes. "Whoa! How did you fit that in your back pocket?"

"How could you not fit it in my back pocket?" Collins replies. "Seriously though, I can fit anything in my pocket, I could even fit you in there if I wanted to."

"Cool!" Mark exclaims. "Can we try?"

Collins shakes his head and wrinkles his nose. "Eww…no, I don't want Roger in my pants!"

"Yeah, and I don't want to be in Collins' pants either," Roger whines. "The drag queen has probably been in there!"

Collins pokes Roger with his musket. "Jesus, you're such an ass!"

"What? Not my ass!!" Roger cries, shielding it with his hands. "I don't want you anywhere near that either!"

"Ugh!" Mark groans, looking positively disgusted. "Will you two stop that?"

Roger turns around and looks at Mark, and then back at Collins. "Alright guys, well If you'll excuse me for a moment, I need to go water the plants.

"Um, Roger…" Mark blinks. "I'm pretty sure that the plants are plastic."

"All living creatures need water!" Roger exclaims defensively, pointing his finger at Mark. "You stupid pumpkin headed albino fascist!"

"Wow!" Collins mutters, shaking his head. "I never thought I'd say this, but Roger just may be more fucked up than me."

"Yeah, well I'm going to go water the plastic… I mean… plants." Roger says, turning and bolting from the room.

In reality though, Roger wasn't really leaving to water the plants (or plastic), but instead to write a postcard to his mother, which, for some reason he always found very soothing.

He walks into the bedroom and box of postcards from his desk, picking one with a picture of Merry Wanderer the 9 foot tall hummel breathing fire on small children on the front. He then sits down on his bed and begins to write.

Dear Mom, Happy day after Christmas! Thank you for the shoes you sent me, I really like them except for that they are three sizes too small. Yesterday Collins brought home a drag queen, today he broke the door off the hinges. Three days ago Mark got a sunburn and he was really red and acting all bitchy. Thankfully now he's back to his normal, pasty, Jewish boy self.

-Love Roger

Finished with his letter, Roger licks a stamp (yum!!) and sticks it on the front of the postcard. "Remind me to mail this later" he tells himself as he puts the postcard on his desk and going back outside to rejoin Mark and Collins, who are currently in the middle of a very violent game of scrabble.

"So…chips anyone?"

_if you read then you must review...that is an order!_


	2. Pigeon man

Forty-eight hours later the game of scrabble finally ends when Mark spells out the word 'dildo' because everybody knows that when you spell out the word 'dildo' in scrabble you win forever, no questions asked.

"Wow" Roger breathes, looking rather relieved that the game was finally over, as watching a game of scrabble for forty-eight hours straight could be rather straining on the eyes. "I think that was the longest game of scrabble I've ever seen!"

"Yeah, well if would have gone faster if Mark hadn't have passed out in the middle of the game for thirteen hours." Collins points out.

"Yeah" Mark retorts, pointing to his newly bruised eye, "well I wouldn't have passed out if you hadn't have punched me!"

"Oh my god Mark!" Roger gasps, clapping his hand over his mouth. "Why did Collins punch you?"

"We were arguing over whether the word barstool was one word or two." Mark replies, glancing over at Collins, who seemed to have fallen asleep although was mumbling something about how sexy Angel would look in Roger's sparkly ladyjeans.

Highly offended by this, Roger pulls out a dart gun and aims it at Collins' face. As everyone knows though, Roger has terrible aim so instead of the dart hitting Collins it shoots out the window, hitting Benny who just happened to be walking by.

Benny, being the yuppie scum that he is, dies almost instantly. Mark then mumbles something about killing two landlords with one stone despite the fact that Benny was in fact, only one person.

Roger feels sort of bad about killing Benny, but not really.

"I'm sort of in the mood for beef stroganoff" he declares randomly, getting up and going to see if there was any cream cheese in the fridge. (He already knew that he'd have to make his beef stroganoff with out beef seeing as both Mark and Collins were vegetarians and Roger himself was too poor to buy his own food.)

… But then, for probably the first time in his life, Roger gets a brilliant idea. Benny, Mr. 'I married my wife for her money and now I have a Range Rover and you don't' was laying outside dead, probably with a lot of money in his pocket.

Roger has no morals

Figuring that Mark probably wouldn't approve of stealing from the deceased, even when the deceased was a first class back stabbing bitch, Roger come up with an 'elaborate' plan involving a Frisbee, a man-thong and eight gallons of lighter fluid to distract Mark while he snuck out of the house.

Coincidentally, that particular day was one of those rare occasions when Roger's plans actually work and he is able to sneak out of the house unnoticed.

Upon reaching Benny's corpse, Roger is rather surprised to find a man dressed as a pigeon pecking at his eyes. Roger, who is both infuriated and highly amused by this at the same time by this, stares stupidly at the pigeon man until he notices another man, a paraplegic stealing Benny's wallet and running (and I do literally mean running) off with it, something which our angsty x-rocker recovering heroin junkie finds incredibly flawed somehow.

Feeling defeated, Roger returns to the loft where he finds a still asleep Collins and a very angry Mark. "Why did you superglue a Frisbee to my camera?" he demands. "And why did you pour lighter fluid in the fish tank, Pascal's dead now, you hear me?? "

Roger giggles, clearly Mark had yet to find the man-thong that he'd sewn onto his comforter

"It's not funny!" Mark yells. "You killed my pet goldfish and ruined my camera; can't you at least say you're sorry?"

"No…" Roger replies childishly, sticking his tongue out at Mark.

"Oh my god…" Mark mutters, about to smack his forehead but then deciding at the last second to hit Roger instead. (Normally Mark is opposed to hitting people in the head as getting hit in the head kills brain cells, but seeing as Roger had no brain cells left to speak of, Mark figured that it would be okay.)

Getting hit in the head though doesn't seem to have any sort of physical affect on Roger due to the fact that Roger's head has no nerve endings. (Because who needs nerve endings when you've got heroin?) It does however, bruise his ego terribly.

Feeling sad, Roger retreats to the dark corner of the loft, laying down and curling himself tightly into a little ball and whimpering.

Having previously been unaware that Roger actually had feelings, Mark feels sort of bad. "Rog?" he asks, going over to where his friend was and kneeling down beside him. "Are you okay?"

"No." Roger sniffs, looking up at Mark. "You know, just because I'm a bitch doesn't mean I don't have feelings!!"

"I know, I'm sorry, how about I take you out for ice-cream, will that make up for it?" Mark asks, knowing full well that it would, seeing as Roger had the mental capacity of a five year old.

At the mention of ice-cream Roger jumps back onto his feet. "Pumpkin and Chocolate Chip!" He exclaims, clapping his hands excitedly.

Raising a seemingly nonexistent eyebrow, Mark looks over at Roger. "What?"

"Pumpkin and Chocolate Chip!" Roger repeats, "Ice Cream, can I have it?"

"Um, that's kind of gross but sure." Mark replies, starting towards the door. "I think I'm going to get vanilla cuz it's the same color as me!"

_REVIEW PLEASE!!_


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